a life that is worthy

The books stack high.

The to do list runs long.

The sticky notes accumulate.

The places to go add up.

I find myself wanting to take a nap against the gentle hum of the car...as I drive. Wake up!  Feels like the only time I slow down--as I'm being hurtled 70 mph on the highway.

Make the most of my time.  Make the most of my time.  Make the most of my time.

The thought of the sacrifice of Jesus weighs heavy.  His mercies on me everyday--oh, how I want to live a life worthy of what He has given me!

Live worthy.  Live worthy.  Live worthy.

So I scramble for everything I can get my hands on.  I grapple, I fight!  I set out on a quest to squeeze every drop out of the life I have been given.

My reason?  To be worthy.

To show Him my gratitude.

As I panic.  As I moan.  As I crack.  I buckle.  I exhaust myself.

I forget to worship.
I forget to pray.
I forget to give thanks.

Because I'm too busy.

Trying to be worthy.

I seem to have forgotten.  I seem to have looked past the essence of grace itself.

Though I would at first deny it, my seemingly noble quest to live a live worthy--my struggles to make everything fit, my disappointments when things don't go as planned, my exhaustion by the time I get halfway down the list--yes, that noble quest, is nothing but pure pride.

Pride.

Believing that I would have something to offer Him. 

Pride.

Believing that through my sheer ambitions I can offer Him a life worthy of His gospel.
Through my ideas of noble things.  Through my plans.  Through my perception of what is worthy.

It is a cheapening of His blood.

I forget.  I forget where I came from.  I forget Who He is.

No! my heart screams.  No!  That's exactly why I feel this burden--I want to show Him my gratitude!

But I have truly forgotten.  Because if I hadn't forgotten, I would have remembered that it is the love of my heart that He desires.

The satisfaction of my heart.
The joy of my heart.
The smile on my face.

I was dead.  Cold, hard, dead.

But He came.  Jesus came, He lived perfectly, He suffered, He died.  He rose.
So that I might have life.

And life abundantly.

I had nothing in and of myself.  God could not give me grace, if it had not been for the blood of His Son.  He is too holy, and I unworthy.

But when Jesus took on my sin, He gave me His righteousness.  So that I stand before God--worthy of being in His presence.  Because I was given the essence of Jesus.

I forget.  And I strive to prove that I'm grateful for my ticket into heaven.

"Be anxious for nothing," He says.  And He calls me to thanksgiving.  Thanksgiving.

The outpouring of a heart fully satisfied.  And yet, I seek to satisfy my heart with my actions.  I feel as though I am not truly worthy, my heart is dissatisfied with myself.

And God whispers that He is enough.  That His power is perfected in my weakness.

That means that I am already worthy.  I bear the branding marks of Jesus on my body.  I wear His garments.  His righteousness is now mine.

Go boldly to the throne of grace.

Regardless of what I've done.  Regardless of how I 'proven' that I'm grateful.

I lost the time.  The lost the thought.  I lost the reminder to taste and see that He is good.

Now He calls me.  He whispers love.  He woos me.

To drink my coffee extra slow.  To relish the feeling of baby fuzz on my cheek, as he sleeps on me.  To bake cookies with the little girls, for no reason.   To take the time to light the scented candles.  To try a new recipe.  To go ahead and write my favorite scene. To watch the music video of my favorite song. To daydream.  To smile.  To smell the roses.

This is my life.

My purpose is to glorify Him in my satisfied heart.

My struggle is that I'm still not doing enough.  Lord, what about ministry?  What about the widows and orphans?  What about-- and He reminds me:

The greatest of these is love.

My heart is inclined to the things of Him.  When my heart is fully satisfied with Him, filled with His love, He will lead me in the way of the ministry in which He desires me.

Sometimes it's nothing grandiose.  Sometimes it's simple, seemingly insignificant, mundane and boring.

Like rocking the baby to sleep at 3:30am.

Like crying with my little sister, trying to articulate the holiness of God.

Like sitting here, writing this blog post, praying someone else is encouraged by my rocky journey.

It doesn't look like much.  It looks too comfortable, too easy, too plain--boring!

But who am I to question where He has placed me?

In a few years, He may call me to the streets of Brazil.  And I know that my heart will be overflowing with joy and peace, satisfaction as I set about the task He has requested of me.

But for now, He calls me to the mundane.  The laundry folding, 'taxi'-driving, cookie baking, nose-wiping, blogging, beautifully fulfilling life.  Because it's His purpose for me.

And that makes it worthy.

where feet may fail {this is faith}

"You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown
Where feet may fail
And there I find you in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand.

I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours
And You are mine."

More than once has this song played on repeat in our house.  The deep promises drown out the lies hounding me throughout the day.

"Your sovereign hand will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't start now.
Your grace abounds in deepest waters"

When He calls me out, when He beckons me on uncharted ground.
When He whispers for me to follow, I shrink back, I am afraid.  I'll sink, I'll drown!  I've been there before, Lord, it won't hold me.  I've tried, God.  This doesn't make sense.

But He still calls.  Beckons me out upon the waters.  
The great unknown.
Where feet may fail.
I close my eyes, swallow hard, and place a foot upon the waves.
I open my eyes and fix them upon Him, and I stand.
I stand on the water, take a step.
My eyes fixed on Jesus, I deny the forces that threaten to drown me.  The waves that threaten to swallow me whole, their Maker is my friend.  He commands them to hold me fast.
And I trust Him.

How hard is it to have faith when our path is sure?  How difficult is it to walk where we know others have walked before?  What faith does it take to take the path so commonly trod?

Jesus calls us upon the water.
He calls us to the unknown.
He calls us to stand where feet have fallen.
He calls us where our path is unsure.
He calls us where our one and only hope is in Him.
Trust that He will guide.
He will protect.
He will feed.
He will keep.
He will hold us up, that we may deny the very forces of nature itself.

He calls us to be water walkers.

This is faith.

When I'm honest, I shrink back in fear.  Terror, in fact.  I'm the type of person that observes all of the statistics and facts before making a step.  Before making any decision I weigh all the pros and cons.  Before moving forward on anything, I check to see how others have fared that have done the same thing.  I make my decisions based on history, testimony, cold hard fact.

It's hard for me to let go, and give in to the pressing, the urging of the Spirit on my heart, unless it lines up with my research.  And sometimes it doesn't.  And what then?

He whispers, "Trust Me."

And I have a choice.  Where is my faith?  
In the world that testifies that water will drown me?

Or in Jesus, the Maker of the waves? 



Check out Oceans on Amazon. {affiliate link}

epic scribbles

Hello, my lovely readers!

My sister Melody and I have had a little secret project brewing for a little while now...

You probably know of my love for words.  I can't escape verbosity, I could talk for hours and hours, circumventing one topic, offering ideas, opinions, angles, different wordings...aaaaand, I digress.  (See?)

In my love for the English language, at the young age of about 10 I began writing stories and have not lost the love for either storytelling or words since.

Melody began her writing journey about a year ago, and has since completed 5 novels.  Yeah, I know...I'm just kinda like...um, wow...

LOL!

All that to say, Melody and I have put our brains, our passions, and our love for words together and have created a blog dedicated to our writing journeys:

Epic Scribbles

Here we plan on posting snippets from our own writing adventures, as well as things that we have learned and are learning in hopes of benefitting other young writers!  We also plan on posting our favorite recourses, maybe some memes to help keep sanity, and lots more fun stuff.  ;-)

Head on over and check out today's debut post!

{Trim Healthy Girl} dreamy cinnamon roll in a mug // THM

We've moved!  Click HERE to see this recipe on my new blog!

rest for the weary

I'm tired.

After a long weekend of running from one thing to the other, I am simply exhausted.

Usually when Monday comes, I am excited for the new week.  A fresh start.  A new beginning.

But today is a stereotypical Monday.  The kind in which the alarm goes off and I moan, "Already?  Not yet!  I'm not ready!"

The laundry has piled up to be an insurmountable mound. The emails need to be answered.  The projects need to be done.  The list goes on and on...

Thank God that I have Him to lean on.

It's time for a midday reset.

Time to take a few minutes.  Maybe turn on some peaceful music.  Make some coffee.  Maybe put on some makeup.

Meditate on His word, even for just a solid minute.

Usually, when I find myself stressed and wanting to rush, it's a clear indication that I need to slow down.  Take a deep breath.  

Be still and know that He is the God of time itself.  If I am spending my time on finding peace in Him, rest assured that His goals and His plans will take place.

It's not about my agenda.  It's about His glory.

And usually, it's hard for me to bring Him glory in the midst of my mind's chaos.  When I'm worried, I'm failing to trust Him.  When I'm stressed, I fail to reflect His Spirit of peace. 

Be still and know that He is God.  

My Father that cares for me, gives strength to the weary.